Her Next Suitor

As I stood watching them, I felt a mixture of anger and sadness. We had been married for nearly eighteen years, and had a son, 15, and daughter, 13. What I was about to do was going to change everyone involved lives.

They held hands across the table, and talked and flirted like lovers. I remembered when she looked at me that way. He's younger, I'd guess no more than twenty-eight to thirty to my wife's thirty-nine.

I am not sure how far this relationship has gone. They may have had sex, they may not have, but I am sure that they have been seeing each other for at least three months, almost four. She has done this to me before over the years. The relationships don't last more than six months, before she tires of them. I have had my fill.

At first, I overlooked it because the children were young, but this time, with a thirteen year old hormonal daughter and mother fighting daily, that I was ready to burn bridges. My wife's current folly is more public. I will not stand for this disrespect in public. It hurts my business reputation. This will be public knowledge soon.

"Hello, young lovers." I smile as I approach the table.

She gasped in fear when she looked up at me. He wanted to stand and confront me, but I roughly shoved him back down into his chair. It slid backwards from the impact.

She tried to tell me that it wasn't what it seemed.

Reaching into my messenger bag, I pulled out the photographs of them in compromising situations, and spread them onto the table. While the couple stared at the pictures, I pulled out an envelope that contained the divorce papers, and handed it to my wife. "You've been served."

She screamed at me that she didn't want a divorce, and it's really not what it seems. Other patrons are watching and streaming with their phones.

I smile sadly as tell them. "I expect you to marry the moment our divorce is final. Obviously, you're in love."

She tells me that it's me she loves, but it falls on deaf ears.

I reach for one last envelope in my bag. I hand it to the man, and I leave the restaurant. I get thumbs up from nearby tables showing my support since they were able to hear the conversations.

Her paramour slowly opens the envelope, and rad what's inside.

Hello, Thomas (I know everything about you.)

I stress that you marry my soon-to-be ex wife as soon as our divorce is final. If you do not, I may not be responsible for what happens to you.

As the seducer, you have gotten the very best that she has to offer. She is always looking perfect. Dressed to be seduced and loved. Make-up, hair, and clothing just for you.

You laughed and smile at each. Sneak kisses, and touches at work, then when you're out. You get her at her very best.

You don't get the version that lives at my house.

The version that never wears make-up. Hair's not fixed unless she going to work, or out with her friends. And she likes to do that. You may met her that way originally. She may not bathe or shower over the weekend, and I hope that you like oversized t-shirts and sweat pants because that is her at home attire.

After your initial sexfest declines, and you start having normal sex, you have to initiate it, she never does. You may get some surprise sex from her after her girl's night when she's fantasizing about the guy that she's being dancing with that night. Forget about blow jobs after the new wears out. That's your birthday, if the moon is right, and Hell is about to freeze over.

I know that you think that she's an angel, but when you move in to my house, and see the real 'her', you will be surprised that she is a banshee. She fights with our children every day. Screaming and cussin' at them. Doors will be slammed, and items thrown during her fits.

Don't think that on your days off, or after work that you get to rest. She has a list for you, and it better be done now. Not after the game or your favorite show. Now. (I expect my house to be cared for by you. Painted and kept up.)

You see, she doesn't think that anyone but her wants me, and that's not true. I have been faithful to her, but many women have shown interest. I was chosen because I could be a good father and provider. It's your turn.

Good Luck,

Jimmy

A year later, I am with a date entering a restaurant when I glanced into the bar and see him nursing a drink.